Wolf RPG

Full Version: a chantar mer
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
 
A crash of cymbal sounds pushed sand and surf away from black, dancing legs, bright moonlight glittering off the nightblack water and one blacker body cutting her way through the salty foam. It was the first sight of such great water she'd seen in days! She wasn't one for whooping with joy, but Antigone ran through across the nightwashed shoreline until her legs felt numb and her body was on fire, stumbling over her black feet as the grey sand turned to grass.

Breathless, she stood half-trembling in the chilly midnight, blinking up at the cloudless sky. The moon hid behind half a curtain of starlight, her white face elegant against the dark shoulder of the heavens. With no clouds, her naked power seeped into the earth and imbibed Antigone herself with her own strength, the strength that had carried her from faceless Phyrgia to where she stood now. Cutting the pants of her breath short (though, let's be honest, huffing it through your nose didn't sound much better) the young witch angled awkwardly on paws that had never been so tired before, trotting across the moonwashed dune and into the grass that surrounded it. 

There was something special about moongrass, though she couldn't remember what. It wasn't exactly powerful, seeing as it was only a half-moon, but it was better than nothing; there was no better cure for tired bones than a weave of moongrass washed in seafoam, after all.
The ever-present sound of waves once disturbed Starbuck's sleep and distracted her when she woke. Donnelaith by the sea had been her home for some time now, though, and she found the crash of the water on the rocks soothing, their rhythm lulled her to sleep each night.

Though not every night, for some days she spent deep in meditation, attempting to communicate with the wind or with the goddess. Lying still for so long left her restless, and she walked through the night to quiet her racing mind. Tonight was such a night. She struck out for a stroll when the moon first rose, and breathed in the sharp, cold brine. It lanced through the warm, heavy fog that had settled over her mind as she slipped up onto the plateau. There she saw a wolf, her edges gilded in weak silver moonlight. It was rare to see strangers on this side of the Sentinels, and so Starbuck started towards the girl with interest. She yipped to catch the woman's attention as she drew nearer, her tail held high and friendly.
!! She lifted her head with a sudden jerk, ears snapped forward in attention. The moment she saw the source, though, she relaxed, letting out a similar chirp of light, honey sound in return. She hadn't find a good batch of grass she'd wanted yet, so the diversion wasn't too bad - she did turn her gaze back on her work, though, pressing her nose into the grass and chipping away at a few long, tall strands. Four would do; the moon liked equal numbers, who knew?

"This is going to be the first charm I make here," her voice smoothed out around a mouthful of reeds, placing them at her feet and lifting her head to try and gather the other girl's eye. "Exciting, huh?" Her lips spread in a broad, white smile, taking in her new company's way. She had such a color to her pelt, it was fascinating! Antigone had lived a life of monochrome, blacks and greys and whites in all sorts of transitions; but this girl was the pale brown of sun-dried dirt, and even in the moonlight you could see the solidness of her, the soil in her way. It was a nice and grounding color, strong as the cradle of the tides; that was an honor in and of itself, no? "Let's only hope these tides don't wash it away while it soaks."

She always had a habit of talking like others might know what she mean - she's never really had to explain these things to others, so it's not her first instinct by any means. Hopefully, her enthusiasm makes it a little less awkward, at the very least.
The woman sang out in return, her voice a sweet song in the night. With assumed permission, Starbuck trotted closer now, taking in the lithe and willow wolf. She seemed to be carved of the night, of greys and blacks and whites. In her eyes was the deep gold of the harvest moon. Closer, closer, Starbuck saw her pluck slips of glass from the ground.

A witch! Starbuck could not believe her luck. But it wasn't luck, was it? Fate had brought her here, as it had brought her to Potema, Deirdre, and Saga before. Her tail wagged wildly, her excitement plain in her demeanor. And you'll let me watch? she asked hopefully. You are a witch, aren't you! I am Starbuck. I am a Seer, and it is so wonderful to meet you! she trilled, not ignoring the other's words but hoping to prompt yet more explanation.